


Held

by spuffyduds



Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-14
Updated: 2010-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe can't change what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held

**Author's Note:**

> Done for kink_bingo for a "hand fetish" square. Characters are underage and there's slight incidental bloodplay. Also, I think the timeline is a bit off canon; I believe they were good friends younger than this, in the movie.

Joe always hurries to classes the first day of school, so he can be sure to snag a seat in the back row--mostly when you're back there the teachers get that you're not interested and not worth their time, so they leave you the fuck alone and you can sleep or whatever.

First day of Grade Nine this plan works for him in another way too--he gets to watch everybody else walk into the classroom, and it turns out this was the summer everybody _changed_.

Joe'd put on maybe an inch since school let out, but he hadn't seen much of anybody since then, hadn't thought about other people changing too, about change happening to the _girls_. But, jeeezus, some of those girls who looked like kids last year, all of a sudden they got serious racks.

Joe gives several of the rackiest long slow grins and two thumbs up, and most of them turn red and hunch over like that's gonna hide anything, but Maggie Flowers comes over and tells him to put those thumbs away or she is gonna stuff them up his ass, and Joe laughs and puts her on his mental list of girls to ask out this year.

And then this guy walks in and it takes Joe a minute to figure out that he even knows him, because last year William Boisy was a pudgy little fucker, and now he's skinny and Christ, he must have shot up _five_ inches. Definitely taller than Joe now, and Joe shifts, sits up straighter in his chair. Boisy sits at the desk right in front of him, half-turns around to say, "Hey."

Joe nods at him, and Boisy keeps his long legs stretched out in the aisle, turns his head toward the parade of people coming in the classroom door, drums fingers on his thigh. And holy fuck, his _hands_ got weird over the summer, long and spidery and just--put together funny, like they've got corners.

Joe watches those fingers moving while everybody else finds seats, while Mrs. Whatever starts droning on about classroom rules, and then he--wakes up, sort of, and realizes that the hard-on that got started with Maggie's rack hasn't gone away. It's gotten harder, and achier, and why has--why would--

"Oh FUCK no," he says out loud, and Mrs. Whatever says, "_What_ did you say, young man?" and he gets sent to the principal's office seven minutes into the first day of school, which is a new personal record.

**************************************************

He tries to stay away from Boisy after that, but the freak is in almost all of his classes. So Joe cuts classes even more than usual, spends a hell of a lot of time smoking behind the school greenhouse.

And of course, after a few days, Boisy shows up there too. Joe's dragging on a crappy menthol, snagged from his mom's purse, but at least he's alone, and then Boisy slouches around the corner.

He nods at Joe, leans back against the greenhouse glass, dredges a pack out of one pocket--what, this is the official smoking spot now?--and a lighter out of the other. Lips a cigarette out of the corner of the pack, sparks up the lighter, leans his face into the light flaring in the cup of those long long fingers, and Joe closes his eyes and thumps his head back against the glass a couple times.

When he opens his eyes Boisy's staring at him, says, "You okay, Mulgrew?" so Joe says, "These fucking menthols are making me sick."

Boisy passes his pack to Joe.

They smoke peacefully for a minute, and Joe's managing not to look at Boisy's hands, not to think about his hands, and then Boisy says, "I got a guitar over the summer."

Joe chokes down the little noise that tries to come out of his throat.

"Trying to put a band together," Boisy says.

And Joe says, "I sing."

********************************************************************************

He doesn't even know if he _does_\--in the shower, sure, but never in front of people before, so he walks to the first band practice at Boisy's house thinking this might turn out to be total fucking humiliation. They might laugh.

It's okay, though. He's a little crappy, but they all are, and--it's fun, they have a good time.

All the other guys clear out right afterward, but Joe sticks around to help Boisy sweep all the cigarette butts out of his garage so his mom doesn't lose her shit when she gets home; coil up all the electric cords, haul the chairs back into the house.

Joe's run out of reasons to hang around, is trying to think of another one, when Boisy picks up the piece of paper where they wrote all their ideas for songs to cover, makes a sharp little noise and drops it. He sticks his index finger in his mouth and mumbles around it, "How do paper cuts hurt so fucking much?"

Joe's brain shuts up, goes all quiet like it never never does, there's only one thing in it: just what he's seeing right now, just the picture of Boisy's finger sliding into the corner of his mouth, lips moving around it, a flash of tongue, then his lips closing to suck.

Joe moans and takes two steps, grabs Boisy's wrist and pulls. And then Boisy's finger is in Joe's mouth. Joe's sucking and licking, running his tongue over the swell of knuckles, tasting sweat and cigarettes and metal guitar strings and just a little blood, and Boisy's watching him, wide-eyed and silent.

 

\--end--


End file.
